


Deliberation

by Avathyst



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU - Non-Overwatch, Bottom Mercy, Dirty Talk, Don't Judge Me, Established Relationship, F/F, Face-Fucking, Gendered slurs used as dirty talk, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Moira, Trans Female Character, Trans Moira, Watersports, pee drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avathyst/pseuds/Avathyst
Summary: Mercy gets thirsty.





	Deliberation

Angela's place was a mess. Moira couldn't help but laugh. The precise and controlled woman that she presented at work was not on display here. Instead, a very tired person lived here. The entryway was strewn with pairs of sneakers, each suitably worn. Angela did stand all day after all. A set of keys tossed haphazardly towards the bowl especially set aside for them.

It was an interesting sight. One that Moira was certain that few others had seen in full; But she was special.

Even now, as Moira stepped inside, she could hear movement from upstairs. Angela would be waiting for her up there. Just as planned. With deliberation, Moira crossed over to the key tray and returned the set to their home. Again, movement from upstairs.

A sly grin peeked from the corner of Moira's lips. She took a moment to tidy up the shoes as well. Angela had worn her black trainers today. It wasn't hard to figure it out with the way they had been kicked off.

A slow and steady whine came from upstairs, making Moira even giddier. She straightened the sleeves of her bespoke suit. It was getting harder not to run up to her with every passing moment. Slowly, almost performatively, Moira made her way up the stairs. Every step of her dress shoes clicked against the wooden steps; Each click inspiring just the slightest sound of movement upstairs.

Moira retrieved her phone from her jacket pocket, pausing halfway up the steps. With a grin, she looked through her text history.

“Stór, I have been thinking of you.”

Moira had sent that, hoping for a reaction. What she hadn't expected was Angela's reply; A racy photo that was clearly taken from the office restroom. Moira had nearly thrown her phone when she received it. She only had a few words for her in the end.

“Your place. Bed. Ready and waiting.”

This had been a few hours ago and judging by the state of Angela's home, she had rushed. Another whine came from the room. Clearly, Angela was getting tired of waiting. Which is what made this feel all the sweeter.

But even with teasing, even Moira could only take so much. With careful steps she climbed the stairs, making her way to the bedroom door. Inside was her prize.

Seeing Angela made Moira instantly feel a little warmer. There was genuine light to her that infected everyone that she met. Maybe it was her smile or perhaps her laugh. Right now, Moira could only notice one thing about her.

Angela sat upon her own bed, which had been hurriedly made a few minutes ago. Her knees were tucked underneath her, her hands clasped in her lap. Moira noted the way her dimples showed when she was unabashedly happy.

“Welcome home, Mistress,” Angela beamed.

Without a word, Moira slipped into the domme persona the two were so familiar with. She had to hide the light on her face, instead choosing to replace it with her practiced stoic look. At a snail's pace, Moira began to shed her suit jacket, hanging it on a nearby rack.

“Be a lamb, close the door for me,” Moira said. Her back was to Angela, not even bothering to look at her while issuing this order.

In any case, Angela bolted to her feet. Moira may not have been looking but Angela let her hips swing anyways. Leaning forward suggestively, Angela closed the door.

With a slam, Moira pressed Angela into the door from behind. Their bodies collided, heat and friction exploding from the two of them.

“I have been waiting to have you alone all day, Stór,” Moira groaned.

Angela had stripped beforehand but Moira hardly had the patience; Her tie had been undone but not yet removed, her shirt wrinkled by Angela's body. Moira let her hands roam over her porcelain skin.

Moira's lips and teeth made contact with the base of Angela's neck. With a hunger, she bit and sucked on her neck. She marked up Angela's pale skin with beautiful purple marks.

“You have healed nicely since the last time I claimed you,” slipped from Moira's lips. She could hardly take herself away to breathe, let alone speak, but she managed. “You are mine, Stór. All mine.”

The only time Moira relented was to force Angela to spin, her back pressed against the door instead. Heterochromia eyes locked onto Angela's blue eyes. The two held each other in an embrace for a split second. It felt strange to betray the underlying feelings and drop the act, even for a moment.

“Please, Mistress. I am yours, please claim me,” Angela whined.

“Impatient slut. You still have to be punished for sending that picture without permission,” Moira growled.

Angela shivered. Moira saw it and more importantly, felt it. “I thought you would like it, Mistress.”

“I enjoyed it very much. But the issue still arises that you did not ask permission. I do not like a disobedient slut.”

“Yes, Mistress. I understand.”

Angela wasn't that much shorter than her. But right now, Moira towered over her by a mile. She rested her forefinger under Angela's chin, taking hold with her thumb. Slowly she lifted her, holding her in place. Their eyes locked again.

“Into the shower. I have not had time to use the washroom.”

Angela's eyes lit up; Her thighs closed together, desperate for any sort of contact. Moira licked her lips, a devious grin breaking her stoic facade. They had talked about all of this more times than she could count. It was such a thrill to know the two had similar interests. Moira had always felt embarrassed about this prior to Angela; It just seemed so dirty.

After a significant hesitation, Moira released her grip on Angela. Her length pressed into the fabric of her pants, desperate not to let go of Angela at all. But as soon as she did, Angela made a beeline straight for the en-suite bathroom. Her hip sway from earlier was gone, betraying her desperation. She had a destination and a goal in mind.

Moira followed after, rolling up her sleeves. Her surgical efficiency was gone, replaced with a hungry speed. Her careful swept hair had been tousled and disturbed. She stepped into the bathroom only to find Angela had moved into position. She sat like before, knees tucked beneath her; Only this time, she sat on the cold tile of the shower stall.

“An eager and thirsty bitch. I am lead to believe this is not actually a punishment for you,” Moira growled down to her partner.

Angela's gaze cast downwards, shame plastered over her blatantly eager face.

“Answer me when I speak to you. Do you accept this punishment, Stór?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Angela finally replied.

“Good girl.”

Moira undid her zipper, dextrous fingers making short work of it. The cold air of the bathroom hit her exposed member. She was so glad to have that out of the way. The pressure had been building in her core since she got here.

“No hands, Stór. Time to mark my territory.”

Angela looked up to Moira, then down to her erect shaft. Arching her back, she leaned her chest forward eagerly. Angela's ample breasts presented for her.

It took a second to build up past the pressure. In time, Moira let her piss begin to flow. It was a slow trickle at first, but it soon began to cascade down. The warm liquid splashed onto Angela's tits, spraying droplets onto her face. The familiar acrid scent filled the bathroom as Moira continued to spray her lover down.

With a tease in her eye, Angela did something even Moira didn't expect. Leaning forward, Angela dipped her tongue out and caught a little bit of the stream. The taste was unusual; Unpleasant but appealing. Without thinking, Angela opened her mouth again to catch more.

Moira caught her eye, looking almost questioning. With a simple nod from Angela, Moira understood. One hand clenched her shaft but the other found Angela's head, holding her in place. More of the stream sprayed straight into her waiting lips. She gulped down what she could, the rest spilling out of her open mouth.

In time, Moira's bladder began to empty. Angela had been careful not to let any of the last drops go to waste. With the last mouthful held in her lips, she gazed upwards. She held it there, seeking permission to swallow. It had that same acrid taste.

“Go on. Every last drop, slut,” Moira growled.

On her command, she swallowed the remainder. Slowly, the fluid traveled down her throat, leaving only a terrible aftertaste. But the look on Angela's face was one of pride. Moira's cock hardened, regaining steam after that small break.

“Was that sufficient punishment, Mistress?” Angela asked.

The two were alone in Angela's bathroom, panting. Moira's grin returned. “Of course, my pet. Now, I want to see you touch yourself while sucking my cock. I know you are desperate enough to get off on serving me alone.”

With a nod, Angela leaned forward. Moira's hand was still tangled in her hair but it hardly mattered. Her lips wrapped around the tip, tongue lapping up the last few droplets of her piss. Moira's eyes fluttered shut. “Oh fuck,” she moaned.

This was Angela's favorite part. She dropped her head with a practiced precision, taking the large shaft into her throat. Slowly, her fingers traveled south, teasing at her own growing heat. She spread her folds, burning nerves shooting through her body. She moaned around the shaft as she finally pulled off.

Angela licked up the side of the shaft. As she looked up to Moira, her cock was pressed against her jaw. There was a passion in their eyes; However, Moira's hand gripped Angela's hair firmly, pulling her back into position on her shaft. After a brief consenting look, she speared forward.

Angela's fingers teased at her heat while Moira began to fuck her face properly. Angela could only gag around the shaft, coating it with a thick layer of saliva.

“Such a good girl. You are such a good girl for me. You love it, don't you, slut?” Moira groaned in between thrusts. She couldn't form the words, but Angela agreed. She made whatever sound she could to indicate how happy she was.

Moira stopped her rough treatment of Angela's face but kept her grip tight. She pulled Angela off of her, letting her get a breath. Angela's makeup had smeared from a combination of the piss and her own unconscious tears. She spluttered, a thick cord of saliva connecting her lips to Moira's cock.

“Up,” Moira commanded.

There was nothing else for Angela in the world but that order. Taking extra care from the wet tile, she stood to her feet. Her knees shook as she gazed up at her lover. A love drunk smile crossed Angela's face that brought a similar one to Moira. She was infectious.

With the same hunger from earlier, Moira pulled Angela's lips to her own. The two mashed together, the stale taste of piss ever present on her lips. Moira's hands roamed and explored her pet with a passion.

“I am going to fuck you, slut. Would you like that?” Moira asked.

“Yes, Mistress. Claim me and abuse me. Please,” Angela begged.

Moira had a hard time comparing this Angela to the same tired woman she knew; To the same composed person that she first met. It had been some time since then but Moira loved Angela completely. Every side of her.

Their lips met again for a moment but Moira cut it short. She pulled Angela from the shower and instead pressed her up onto the sink. Angela felt the cold mirror pressed up against her back. However, she was more concerned with removing the buttons from Moira's shirt. Her fingers slipped about, almost trying to rip the shirt open.

Moira looked a mess and so did Angela. But Moira was back on her lover, kissing and biting at her jawline. Moira's lips dipped to tease at her nipples but she was anything but sensitive to them. Her teeth pressed into the skin, leaving a definite bruise. Angela could only groan.

“Please, I need it,” Angela begged.

“Impatient slut,” Moira replied breathlessly.

Moira lined up her shaft with Angela's entrance. This was far from their first time but Moira would never get tired of this. She rammed forward, spearing Angela on her cock. Angela's eyes lit up.

“Oh fuck,” slipped from Angela's lips.

With force, Moira drove forward. She slipped right into Angela's greedy hole, pressing in until their hips met.

“Still so tight. Such a good slut,” Moira grunted. There was a chuckle behind her words.

Angela's legs wrapped around Moira's waist as she began to fuck her in earnest. She could feel herself slamming into the mirror behind her with every thrust. Her hips rolled, desperate for more. Moira was always ready to give her more.

“Who owns you?” Moira grunted in between thrusts.

“You do! You own my pussy,” Angela yelled.

Flames shot through the two of them, passion ablaze in every touch. The heat and friction were driving Angela crazy, her back arching as her hips rolled. Every pounding thrust sent sparks through her body.

“I am so close, Mistress. Please, may I come?” Angela begged. Her eyes were clenched shut, her hands clawing at Moira's back. Her nails dragged down Moira's still clothed back.

“Come for me, pet. Come on my dick like a good whore,” Moira groaned. She had held herself back as well.

The two hit their orgasms at almost exactly the same time. Moira's cock burst, ropes of thick hot cum painted Angela's insides. Angela's heat milked every last drop.

The two sat there, panting. Angela leaned back, head thudding against the mirror. Moira stayed between her legs, trying desperately to catch her breath. Time traveled at a snail's pace as they relished in the afterglow.

“Are you alright, Stór?” Moira finally asked.

A brief airless chuckle came from Angela. “I think I will live. You were wonderful, Liebling,” Angela replied.

“Let's get you cleaned up,” Moira said, still not moving. “You smell terrible.”

Angela couldn't see it behind closed eyes but she knew that smirk was there. That stupid, devious, sexy smirk. The same smile she fell in love with.

“Mein Gott, I wish you weren't such a dork.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This was a commission for a very good friend of mine! If you liked what you read, you can see about commissioning me! I write smut, fluff, angst, you name it!   
> I also do drawings too!
> 
> http://avathyst.tumblr.com/post/171777978281/hello-my-name-is-ava-and-i-am-a-trans-writer-and


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